Lights out!
I couldn’t make this up. I think I put a curse on my head last night. I turned to Karen and said (this is what we call foreshadowing), “I’m looking forward to the week. I have two dinner parties, a personal chef day, and a cooking lesson that’s sold out, with a waiting list.” Apparently, this is the equivalent of flipping off the gods.
The dinner party was last night. Yesterday morning, I was planning to call a good friend (who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent) to confirm that she would be helping me with the dinner for 12 guests. I was going to wait until after we got home from walking the dogs. I got home to a voicemail, saying that the nameless good friend had strep throat. She sounded awful. I felt bad, especially a she’s a single mom. Of course I wanted her to stay home. Then, for the first time in ages, I went into a semi-panic. So I called another friend, who was available. That was the easy part, although I was spooked. This had never happened to me.
So, there we were, getting the dinner ready (we were down to seven guests at this point). Then, ten minutes before the appetizers were to be served, the power went out. Gone. Zip. Darkness. I had the burners going on the gas stove. The two ovens were out. Hmmm. I still had a flatbread pizza with caramelized onions to finish, a potato gratin, and broiled organic salmon. I was, in culinary terms, toast. The other appetizer was done. It was mini crabcakes (with a great remoulade sauce, by the way). And the dessert, a strawberry/rhubarb cobbler, was also done. And the potato gratin was 1/4 done. What to do? PANIC!
Well, actually, I got lucky. I finished the potato gratin on the stove. I kept adding chicken stock to the pan. I also put a lid on the ‘taters, and it worked. The salmon? I borrowed some white wine from the host, added some onions and water, and made a kinda/sorta court bouillon. Yup, the semi-classic fish poaching liquid. And I poached the fishies. Surrounded by candlelight, of course.
And as the salads were being served, the lights came back on. Which made it easier to serve the rest of the meal, which included Hadley asparagus with a freshly made hollandaise sauce.
So, all in all, it went well. It was actually fun to improvise like that. Had the stove been out of commission too? Then I really would have been toast. Or worse. Chopped liver.
I couldn’t make this up. I think I put a curse on my head last night. I turned to Karen and said (this is what we call foreshadowing), “I’m looking forward to the week. I have two dinner parties, a personal chef day, and a cooking lesson that’s sold out, with a waiting list.” Apparently, this is the equivalent of flipping off the gods.
The dinner party was last night. Yesterday morning, I was planning to call a good friend (who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent) to confirm that she would be helping me with the dinner for 12 guests. I was going to wait until after we got home from walking the dogs. I got home to a voicemail, saying that the nameless good friend had strep throat. She sounded awful. I felt bad, especially a she’s a single mom. Of course I wanted her to stay home. Then, for the first time in ages, I went into a semi-panic. So I called another friend, who was available. That was the easy part, although I was spooked. This had never happened to me.
So, there we were, getting the dinner ready (we were down to seven guests at this point). Then, ten minutes before the appetizers were to be served, the power went out. Gone. Zip. Darkness. I had the burners going on the gas stove. The two ovens were out. Hmmm. I still had a flatbread pizza with caramelized onions to finish, a potato gratin, and broiled organic salmon. I was, in culinary terms, toast. The other appetizer was done. It was mini crabcakes (with a great remoulade sauce, by the way). And the dessert, a strawberry/rhubarb cobbler, was also done. And the potato gratin was 1/4 done. What to do? PANIC!
Well, actually, I got lucky. I finished the potato gratin on the stove. I kept adding chicken stock to the pan. I also put a lid on the ‘taters, and it worked. The salmon? I borrowed some white wine from the host, added some onions and water, and made a kinda/sorta court bouillon. Yup, the semi-classic fish poaching liquid. And I poached the fishies. Surrounded by candlelight, of course.
And as the salads were being served, the lights came back on. Which made it easier to serve the rest of the meal, which included Hadley asparagus with a freshly made hollandaise sauce.
So, all in all, it went well. It was actually fun to improvise like that. Had the stove been out of commission too? Then I really would have been toast. Or worse. Chopped liver.
posted by ChefBill at 2:17 PM
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